


Desperation

by poetsandzombies



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Kinda, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-05
Updated: 2014-04-05
Packaged: 2018-01-18 07:34:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1419798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetsandzombies/pseuds/poetsandzombies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony comes back from who-knows-where upset, and Steve's tired of Tony not being honest with him.<br/>sorry for the lame title, and sorry for the half assed "smut"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desperation

**Author's Note:**

> I took the first half of this from a scene from The Best Years, I can't find a good video to link y'all to, but just know this isn't entirely original. Sorry, I edited this while on the phone, so it might suck

"Let go of me." Tony shrugged out of Steve's grasp, shoving angrily through the door of the college dorm bathroom. Steve stormed after him.

 

"No, not until you stop and tell me what the hell is wrong with you!" Tony ignored him, turning on one the showers, hoping a shower would calm him down. He could feel furious heat radiating around his body. But Steve grabbed his arm and spun him around, not aggressively, but forcefully. 

"Nothing is wrong with me." Tony's shout echoed through the stalls, startling himself, but not phasing Steve.

"Tell me now, or that's it. I walk out, and I don't come back." He was too close, Tony could feel his chest tightening as Steve pressed his forehead to Tony's, gripping his wrist as gently as he could manage, breathing harshly through his nose. It was infuriating, the way his eyes were saying  _don't do this to me, Tony. Don't do this_. It was suffocating, but Tony couldn't bear the thought of him leaving, either. 

"It was my dad, okay? I went to see him and he shut me out. He said that, that I was a mistake." He felt himself gritting his teeth, practically rolling his eyes as he felt tears welling in them. This was not him, opening up, even to Steve, his best friend, was not him. But he couldn't hold it down any longer, he could feel it rising in his throat, knew that if he were to open his mouth again, it would would all come out. Steve's face had softened, his grip on Tony loosening into nothing but a lingering touch. 

"You are  _not_ a mistake."  He said quietly. Tony leaned his head back in frustration.

"Yes I am." He insisted, then looked down and added, in a lower, more defeated tone, "Nobody wants me." 

Something in those words caused Steve to jump a little, caused his eyes to widen into some form of disbelief. Tony couldn't look back at him, couldn't stand the intensity in which Steve was looking at him.

"That's not true," Steve said, leaning in so close that Tony had to take a step back, the warm water of the still running shower hitting his back. "I want you." 

And without even a second to process it, Steve was nearly slamming Tony up against the back of the shower stall, kissing him with such force Tony saw stars. There was a moment of hesitant, blinding  _need_  that rippled through Tony's stomach like a burning _fire_ before he was kissing him back, fingers tangling through his hair, any previous feeling of hurt or betrayal peeling away, leaving nothing but every feeling he's ever had and locked away for Steve.

Between their frankly sloppy kissing, Steve made a somewhat strangled noise that almost sounded like a sigh of relief, and he started fussing over their now soaking wet t-shirts. Tony, in all his frantic desperation, turned out to be the more calm one. He broke away from Steve, putting enough space between them to clear his head enough to peel the shirt that clung to him over his head, tossing it to the side. Steve was too busy staring at him, bright blue eyes blown wide, hair in messy wet strands, water running down his lips, off his chin, to even notice Tony taking off his shirt as well. 

He did let out a huff in surprise when Tony had backed him against the wall, fingers fumbling on his jeans. Steve leaned his head against the wall, breathing heavily as he waited patiently on Tony. But the pants wouldn't budge, they were too wet and clung against his legs too tightly. Tony let out a frustrated groan: he couldn't even undo the buttons. Steve looked down and pouted.

"This was a bad idea." His voice sounded strained. Tony just shook his head.  _Hell no._  

"Don't bail on me now, Rogers." He stuck two fingers through one of the front belt loops on Steve's jeans tugged Steve closer, pressing his waist tightly into his, started rocking up against him. Steve gasped out in shock at the sudden pleasure shooting through his body, clenching his fists, at a loss for anything else to do. Tony smiled into the crook of Steve's neck, biting down gently before kissing him, his jaw, his neck, his shoulder, craving every shiver he felt against him. 

It was slow, it was incredibly desperate, and admittedly a tab bit awkward. But above all else, it was  _so good_. The feel of Steve's muscles tensing and relaxing with every small thrust.Tony could tell he was trying to calm himself down, but he was shaking ever so slightly, touching every inch of Tony he could get his hands on. And Tony knew, he understood, could feel how hard both of them were, that this was just barely enough. 

Even so, it _was_  enough. For now. Their breathing got a little rougher as their movements got a little faster, a little harder, until Steve smacked his head back against the wall with a unnecessarily loud moan. Tony pressed his lips against his throat, shuddering as his sounds vibrated against his mouth. There was a few minutes of silence as they both took time to themselves to ground themselves.

"Do you know..." Steve panted out, wrapping a hand around Tony's waist and kissing him, "how hard it was not to do that  _years_  ago?" 

Tony looked over Steve's wet, muscled body with a raised eyebrow.

"I may have an inkling of an idea."


End file.
